Dog Days Are Over
by justaclassicgirl
Summary: What really went through Hermione's head before she left her parents in the beginning of The Deathly Hallows, and does she ever regret it? AU in that Hermione is never reunited with her parents, while she is in Canon. Written for the Florence and the Machine Challenge as posted by our little infinity.


So, here's this. I almost cried writing it. I am an emotional writer.

This is AU in that Hermione is never reunited with her parents, while she is reunited with them in canon. I needed the story to go that way! But other than that, this is pretty much canon.

~justaclassicgirl

* * *

"Hermione, are you getting ready for bed?"

"Mum, I'm seventeen. You don't need to tell me when to go to bed," Hermione said, barely able to keep a quiver out of her voice. She hated using this tone with her mother, especially now, but she had to keep up appearances.

"Alright, darling, but don't stay up too late."

"I won't."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Mum," she whispered.

Her father came in a few minutes later to see her sitting on her bed, staring off into space. "Hermione? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no...Nothing, Dad. It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" he asked, and started towards her bed. She mentally screamed, No! Don't get close to me. Not now, not tonight. Not before what I have to do tomorrow.

It'll only make it harder for me to leave.

"Is it a boy?"

Hermione almost smiled with relief. He hadn't an inkling of her plan. But she put on her most somber face and said, "Yeah...this one boy, you know Ron..."

"Ohhh, what's he done now? I'll kill him, so I will, if he hurt my little girl in any way."

A tear ran down her cheek at her father's words, and she brushed it away angrily. "It's fine, he just...he doesn't like me, and I don't think he ever will." Good alibi, Hermione, she congratulated herself.

"Well, sweetie, you don't know that for sure. Chances are he's just too nervous to tell you how he feels. I'm telling you from the perspective of a man myself that he probably likes you as much as you like him. I know that this same situation happened with me and your mum. We just get cold feet, afraid of rejection, and don't know how to handle it. So we may come off as rude or uninterested, while really we're feeling the opposite. Don't take it personally, Hermione."

"Thanks, Dad," she murmured.

"Well, you must be tired. I'll let you get some sleep." He kissed her head and ruffled her hair, like he used to do when she was a child.

"I love you, Dad!" she choked out as he reached the door.

He turned, and gave her that famous smile that made her believe for a split second that everything was going to be all right, so long as he stayed here.

So long as SHE stayed here.

"I love you too, Hermione."

He closed the door gently behind him. Hermione waited until she heard his footsteps fade away, then let out a strangled sob and flung herself onto her pillow, where she cried herself to sleep.

11 o'clock the next morning came, grey as was per usual. Raindrops splattered the windows. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were just waking up. But Hermione had been up for hours already. She had been packing.

She looked around her room, seeing if there was anything she'd forgotten to take.

Tent? Check.

Lots of clothes? Check.

Muggle medicine? Check.

Medicinal potions brewed days in advance? Check.

Pillow? Check.

Clothing for the boys? Check.

Too many books?

Obviously, check.

Her wand was tucked safely into her boot as it always was, ready for anything.

She pulled the drawstring of her beaded bag closed, and then tossed it on her bed and stared at it.

At it, and the room, and all the little trinkets she was leaving behind, and finally her eyes landed on a stuffed bear sitting quietly on her bed, leaning back comfortably on the pillows.

Here was something both Harry and Ron didn't know about.

Her mother and father gave her this bear when she was just born. It had been beautiful, a deep chocolate brown, like her eyes, and had a little blue bow tied around his neck. He had been ever so soft, like cashmere and cotton candy. She named him Brownie when she was old enough to speak.

And she loved him with all of her heart.

Now, he was a pale brown, and his fur was matted and ratty and falling off in clumps. Many seams had opened up in him over the years, but she always fixed them with a wave of her wand. What remained of his blue bow, a frayed piece of faded ribbon, hung limply from his neck, waving in the slightest breeze or puff of air.

But to her, he was still beautiful.

She had snuck him into her Hogwarts trunk over many years. She found it hard to sleep without him. Once, she'd opened him up and placed some of her most valuable things inside, cushioned by his stuffing. They were mostly pictures: Her, Harry, and Ron; Her and her parents; Her and the other Gryffindor girls.

But there was also a small necklace inside that her parents gave her on her thirteenth birthday.

The pendant was a small silver plate that shone, and there were tiny diamonds barely bigger than the period at the end of this sentence that were placed exactly to form her name in looping script on the plate.

She loved it, but had never been one for excessive jewelry, and just put it inside Brownie with all her prized pictures. She had never worn it once.

Now, the bear sat there, a reminder of all she was leaving behind to save the wizarding world.

Her world.

As an afterthought, she grabbed Brownie and shoved him in her beaded bag.

"Hermione, breakfast is ready!"

Hermione barely heard her, so lost in the issue of The Daily Prophet which proclaimed "Muggle Family Killed" and what she was about to do.

"Coming Mum," she called back, her voice cracking in a small sob.

She then grabbed the drawstring of her bag, pulled her wand out of her boot, and walked slowly towards the door. Every step took enormous effort. Her feet felt like they were made of lead.

She had read over the spell a hundred times, the single word burning itself into her head until it was a constant mantra, always there, throbbing.

Waiting.

Hermione walked into the living room, her heart thudding. She saw all the pictures of her, as a child, with her parents, growing older, every birthday...

And now, in front of her, she saw her parents sitting on the couch, their backs to her. Her mother was pouring tea into a cup, undoubtedly for Hermione, and both her parents were speaking in hushed voices.

She wished she could hug them one last time.

She wished she could tell them she loved them one last time.

She wished she didn't have to leave.

But she did.

Hermione raised her wand, aiming it at her parents. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her vision blurred. Images swam before her eyes of her mother and father.

With her.

A ringing noise in her ears.

White noise.

She barely heard herself say it:

"Obliviate."

And Hermione watched as her image was erased from every single photo in the living room, and though she couldn't see it, from her parents' brains as well.

Her parents sat perfectly still, staring straight ahead as if in a trance.

Her grip tightened around her bag.

She slipped the wand back into her boot and strode out the door.

Hermione walked determinedly down the road, away from what had been her house.

She never once looked back.

* * *

"Mummy, Mummy, Mummy!"

The excited squeals of Hermione's two children filled her ears.

Hermione smiled, dropped her grocery bags, and gathered them into a hug.

"Have you all been good for Daddy while I was out?"

"Yes!" they chimed.

"I beg to differ," her husband said jokingly, stepping out behind them.

"They were awful! They don't get dessert tonight."

"Daddy!" their daughter Rose whined.

"Not fair!" pouted little Hugo.

Hermione's smile grew even wider. "Oh, stop it, you two. He's joking."

"Besides," she added, "I was planning on making a cake for the both of you tonight."

"YAY!"

"And if anyone can do without desserts, it's YOU, Ronald," she said, turning to her husband.

"Hey!" he said indignantly.

She kissed him on the cheek so he knew she was joking, then turned to her children. "Do you want to help me bake it?"

"Yes!" they shouted.

"Alright. Why don't you take these bags to the kitchen and your father will help you get started. I'm going to go wash up."

The two scrambled off, and Ron followed, shaking his head slightly.

When she was sure all three of them were gone, she creaked open the door to the basement and descended downstairs.

Hermione pawed through the sea of boxes that was the basement until she found the right one.

She opened it and lifted out the object she was looking for, coughing at the dust.

"Oh, how I've missed you," she murmured. "Never once did I forget about you, though. How could I, when you keep my most precious secrets?"

Brownie stared back at her with unblinking eyes.

Hermione took out her wand and dragged it along his back. A nearly invisible seam opened up, and she reached her hand inside.

When she drew it out, she held the picture of her and her parents and the silver necklace.

Hermione closed up Brownie with her wand, kissed him, and placed him gently down in the box.

Then she kneeled slowly on the floor, placing the picture and necklace on the floor in front of her.

"Mum, Dad..." she whispered. A tear fell onto the concrete basement floor.

"I miss you..."

"I'm sorry I left you."

"I'm SORRY!" she almost wailed, but composed herself quickly so her family upstairs wouldn't hear her.

"But wherever you are, Mum, Dad...I have a family now." She sniffled, and let out a sort of laugh-sob. "I have a daughter and a son. Rose and Hugo. You would really love them, Mum. Rose is so much like you...she has our eyes."

"And, Dad, you were right about Ronald. He really is perfect. He was only seeming rude because he loved me too, but thought I would reject HIM. Imagine that!" She let out another laugh-sob.

"Mum, Dad, I am so very happy here. But I still miss you."

"Sometimes I regret leaving. But it had to be done. I hope you understand."

"But you can be sure, Mum, Dad, that no matter what happens I will NEVER leave the family I have now. I will never cause others the pain I felt when I left you."

"I will never leave them."

"So wherever you are now, Mum, Dad, I really miss you, more than you can imagine. And for the last time, I promise, I'm sorry."

Hermione picked the picture up gingerly and folded it into a tiny square, small enough to fit into the tiny pocket of her jeans. Then she lifted the silver necklace from the little mound of its chain and opened the clasp.

And so it was that Hermione wore her parents' gift for the first time, nearly 20 years after they first gave it to her.

* * *

The family had just finished dessert, and everyone was doing their own thing. No one heard Hermione slip out the back door to the backyard.

The wind was extremely strong, and whipped at her face and tried to coax tears from her eyes. But she wouldn't allow them to leave. She would not cry any more.

Hermione reached her fingers into her pocket, removing the picture. She unfolded it, smoothing out the wrinkles, then placed it flat on her freezing palm.

She held out her hand to the wind.

The wind took the picture from her, sending it gliding off into the distance, and took with it all her regret, sadness, and guilt, and all of her tears.

Except for one.

It fell, a small glimmering crystal, and landed with an almost inaudible plink on the pendant of her necklace.

Hermione watched the picture fly away the same way a child watches their balloon fly away, until it was a mere speck against the grey twilight sky.

At last, she turned slowly and walked back inside.

To her family.

~Fin


End file.
